


Reparation

by amateur_professional



Series: Reconnecting [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Funerals, Gen, Minor Character Death, dark humour, why do i call it minor character death it literally began this whole series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amateur_professional/pseuds/amateur_professional
Summary: Death notifiers ruin Leo's morning and Gum has a lot of questions. Leo opens up for once.
Relationships: Leo Voigt & Harriet "Gum" Voigt, Leo Voigt & Roose Voigt, Past Leo Voigt & Emilia Voigt
Series: Reconnecting [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843195





	Reparation

Leo woke up at 7, feeling… perfectly fine.

It was Saturday, a chilly winter morning, on one of the rare days they had off from work. One of the days Gum could jump them and ruffle their hair without being berated for it because they probably weren’t going to leave the house anyway. They would usually spend it lounging around, slowly working through any paperwork, and maybe tidying up the house a bit. There might be a movie night. On rare occasions, she could even get them to use the second controller and clear out some of the boomer inside them.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Roose was softly snoring into their chest and the festering memories from the night before, this would’ve been that kind of day.

Shifting, they noticed pretty quickly that yeah. They were sore as hell. A few spots, in particular, throbbed harder and they could vaguely remember being punched a few times. Bruised. They supposed they were pretty lucky that bruises were the worst thing they had; plenty of knives and firearms had been involved at the scene. Many people had to leave on stretchers and in body bags. 

Explaining the situation to Gum once she wakes up didn’t seem as tedious of a task anymore. Honestly, laying here until she inevitably comes to check on them didn’t seem like such a bad idea either, because the longer they were awake the more they realized just how mentally drained they were. Maybe they could even sleep in—?

No, not happening.

Roose didn’t even stir when she was gently slipped onto the mattress. Leo got out of bed, stretching.. then regretting it as every part of them screamed in protest.

They went to the kitchen, throwing together a sandwich and nibbling on it as they waited for the kettle to boil. Once it did, they made a cup of tea and leaned on the counter with it like they did every other morning, watching the steam roll. This wasn’t a normal day.. but they were going to savour what they could get before their bubble popped.

When they got to their second cup, they pretended to ignore Gum shuffling into the room, continuing to do so even as she crept up behind them.

“Good morning!” Two familiar hands mussed into their hair. She’d give them a noogie to mess it up even more, but it was impossible to sneak up and give one when the person was a full foot taller than you.

They took a sip. “Morning.”

She joined them at the counter with her own cup in one hand and a slightly-stale cinnamon bun in the other. They made small talk, Gum going on about a ‘Karen’ at work the other day and Leo making some dry remarks that may or may not have been taken as the jokes they were. A normal morning for them. As time ticked by, however, it became clear that the topic of yesterday’s events would inevitably be brought up.

“So, Dad,” Gum said through the last bit of pastry, “how’d it go last night? At work, I mean.”

“Well.” _Fantastic_ question, they thought. “There was a cult hiding out in the countryside that nobody knew about for years. It was your typical, ‘end of the world’ kind that worshipped their leaders as godly beings that would keep them safe. We raided it to detain as many members as possible.”

She gave them a look, daring them to stop the story there.

“It got bloody. We didn’t think that almost every adult there had no qualms about hurting others.” They added.

“Yeah?” Gum wiped the crumbs off her face. “How bad?”

“Hm. Bad.” No shit, Leo.

“Mm, lemme guess, people died? _Kids_ died?”

“..Yes...” They didn’t like to think about it. Especially the kids. “Ahm, I do feel a bit immoral for speaking about it over a cup of tea, however—”

Then, at this very convenient time, the doorbell rang, saving them from attempting to move the conversation to another topic.

Strange. There weren’t any packages they were expecting. They also didn’t get many visitors at all apart from the occasional drop-by from Leo’s friend ‘Aliby’, the sort of person who spends all his time tinkering in the garage and collecting trinkets. He always insisted that his name wasn’t something else before he legally changed it. But the eccentric man had been here just last week—and normally wouldn’t be due for another visit in at least another—so who could it be?

Gum set down her cup. “I’ll get it.” She straightened her clothes to look the most presentable one possibly could in bat-patterned pyjamas, then opened the door.. to a pair of strangers. One looked like your textbook description of a police officer. The other, despite being in casual wear, radiated the aura of a medical professional. “Oo, uh. Can I help you?”

“Good morning, miss.” The generic officer greeted pleasantly. Too pleasantly. “I’m Officer Cooper Coleman, and this is Dr. Amy Evans. Does Leo Voigt live here?”

He had an unsettling smile; it seemed genuine, but for a reason you would rather not find out. Perhaps more worrying was that the beam looked perfectly sane. Dr. Evans just looked like she really wanted to be somewhere else. She sniffed and said nothing. “Yeah, that’s my dad. Uhh,” she glanced at the kitchen, “just a sec, I’ll go get them..” She felt his eyes follow her as she left the room. Creep.

“Dad.”

“Hm?” Sensing her tension, they set their cup down.  
  
“There’s cops at the door. One’s a doctor, she’s fine, but the other guy is smiling like he’s about to shove a—”

Hell, Leo didn’t need to hear the rest of it. They knew who it was: the damned death notifiers, Coleman in particular, come to throw their normal morning out the window. They meant to tell Gum about last night’s events at some point—in fact they were very close to _doing so_ —but that plan wasn’t going to happen. It kind of felt like a cruel joke. It probably was a cruel joke; Coleman was someone who enjoyed this kind of thing.

The guy’s grin widened slightly when they walked into the living room, and he made a point to shuffle some papers that he was carrying.

“Oh hello, you must be—”

“Cooper.” They sighed, cutting him off. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” His grin just grew even more. Dr. Evans shuffled slightly to the left away from him. Before he could say anything, however, Leo gestured to the couch. “Just say your script and get it over with.”

In a few minutes, the four—Gum included—were seated. Dr. Evans stared at the floor. Gum awkwardly looked between her dad and the two cops, confused but not sure if she should say anything.

Coleman cheerfully flipped through his papers, then began.

“I have some _very_ bad news to tell you, Mr. Voigt.” He gave a ‘sympathetic’ smile and waited slightly longer than appropriate until Leo was noticeably glaring daggers at him. “It’s regarding your sister, Emilia. I understand that you know about the missing persons’ case for her?”

“Whh. THEIR WHAT?” Gum blurted loudly, to Coleman’s amusement.

“Sister. Your aunt, I’d presume?” He cleared his throat. “She was involved in a large cult with an end-of-the-world mentality, for much of the time she had been missing for. It is with my deep regret that I inform you…” He paused, giving them time to prepare (and for emphasis, on his part). “…that your sister, Emilia, was stabbed five times in a struggle with an unidentified assailant this morning when the cult was investigated. She died of blood loss.”

Leo was trembling slightly, with their hand clamped over their mouth. It was just a typical reaction to news like this. Or was it? One would have no way to know that they were actually shaking with the effort of staying silent. As in not asking, rather forcefully, for Coleman to _quit the damn theatrics_. He was purposefully dragging it on and on.. it seemed that only Gum and possibly Dr. Evans (though she likely didn’t care enough to even notice) were not aware of that. He was having the time of his life here.

“I am _so_ sorry that this happened, Mr. Voigt.” He finished, his stupid smile finally gone but still tugging at the corners of his lips.

…Fortunately, Dr. Evans had found her last fuck to give and started the next phase of the notification without a hitch. “With what we’ve managed to get from Emilia so far, we know that she was killed by a member of the cult. The weapon was likely a kitchen knife, but given the, uh, circumstances of her death.. it’s probably not going to be recovered.” She fidgeted. “Forensic data from the scene showed a large amount of blood that was released over a relatively long period. Unfortunately, um, it wasn’t a quick, nor painless death. Although, blood analysis implies that she wasn’t stressed or panicked in her final moments.. so.. I advise you to take comfort in knowing that.” Then she went back to staring at the floor.

Coleman took over again, after another pause that was.. actually kind of warranted this time. “We understand that this is difficult to process, so we want you to know that you can see her if you think it might help.” He held out his stack of papers to them, intentionally shifting it just enough to reveal a name.. of a nearby funeral home. Well then. “You have a week to decide on how she will be laid to rest, calculate the costs.. or, alternatively, an indigent burial can be arranged. And one more thing—” out comes another stack of paper— “along with these medical examinations is a list of contact information for the other family members that we managed to track down.”

That. The list. It hit harder than anything else he had said up to this point.

His smile was back. “They will be informed of your sister’s passing shortly, once we get in touch with the law enforcement in Germany.” No doubt the bastard had collected all this information just to shake it in their face. “Do you have any questions?”

“…No. Thank you.” They said stiffly.

Coleman nodded, standing up abruptly and making his way to the door—knowing full well that he’d overstayed his welcome about a minute into the visit. Dr. Evans followed suit, mumbling something under her breath about condolences and coffee.

“We’ll get back to you in a few days to give you any updates, and to see how you’re dealing with the situation, alright?” He added as he stepped through the door. No reply. “Good! Enjoy the rest of your d—” They closed the door on him.

It was only after hearing the sound of the car fade away that they let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Then they had to slap their hand over their mouth again, breathing heavily through their nose. Damn it. Not now.

“Um, Dad.” Gum said, internally screaming. “What the fuck was that? When were you going to—agh—I thought your whole family was in Europe!”

‘Well, that’s true now that Emilia is dead!’, their mind supplied, and a few muffled laughs made it through their fingers. They’re definitely messed up. It looked like they were straight-up losing it, convulsing with silent laughter whilst leaning on the door, and it took longer than they would’ve liked to get it under control.

God damn their gallows humour.

They took a deep breath in, and once they were sure they weren’t going to start laughing again, met her eyes. Yep. She thought they were nuts. “Sorry.” They croaked, straightening up. “I was, ah.. planning on telling you right after the ‘dead children’ remarks, but Coope—Coleman was a step ahead of me.”

She grimaced. Then she stomped over, pulling them down to eye-level by the front of their shirt. “Okaay—be honest with me here, with this whole death in the family thing.. are you verging on some mental breakdown and using humour to deal with it? Do you need to punch a wall?”

“Heavens, no.” They said unconvincingly, stifling another chuckle. “Well. Maybe. But I’m handling it.” Somehow, less reassuring than intended. “I-it’s just that Emilia.. _happened_ to die in my arms last night..”

“Daaad..” She groaned. “You can’t just drop that out of nowhere and expect me to think you’re fine, you emotionally constipated geezer.”

Oh, it was about to get worse.

It took a second, but somewhere in the back of her mind, ‘worse’ clicked. It didn’t seem like Coleman, even with all his research done, knew Leo had done more than just be at the cult hideout when the stabbing happened. And he definitely had access to everything the police had on everyone. So.. they just kept it all to themselves? Kept it out of the reports, even? They must have had a good reason, she knew, but that didn’t help much.

Gum knew them: they had a habit of letting things fester and completely take over their thoughts. If they were fine this morning, if they managed to _sleep_ after that ordeal—there was a major piece missing there. A lot of pieces.

“I know, and I’ll try my best to fill you in, alright?” They offered. “But please, let go of my shirt.”

  
She did that.

It took some time to get through everything, then more to answer her questions. Leo tried their best to not veer off too much into vague deflections. Roose was a subject that was brought up gradually, and Gum seemed to take it well when they mentioned that the girl was currently sleeping in their room. It wasn’t the strangest thing they had come home with (that title went to three gunshot wounds).

“..Can I see her?” She asked, once their retelling had faded into silence.

The two stood at the door, where her faint snoring was just audible. Gum put a hand on their shoulder.

“She’s adorable,” she cooed, “and she looks like you, too..”

They sighed, then made a low sound of agreement.

…

  
“It’s nice that you kept your promise to her.” She said eventually. 

_But they hadn’t intended to. They had been perfectly fine with the prospect of letting Roose die_.

…

Oh, why did it matter? She was here. She was unhurt. And they had more pressing matters to worry about, the upcoming funeral in particular.

“Mm. It is.”

==========

The funeral was a quiet affair: closed casket, modest amounts of flowers. Leo could spot a few strangers, perhaps friends Emilia had, or even cult members that were deemed fit to enter normal society again. They wondered if those ex-cultists had any family left, and if so, how willing they were to reconcile with them. Without the support, they might attempt turning to their former affiliates again.

Nobody seemed particularly thrilled to be there, though nobody was emotional enough to shed any tears either. Them included.

They.. were not usually the kind to reminisce about old times, and what little mourning they did do happened in the days following her death. Plus. Her legacy, presently swinging her little legs in the seat next to them, was doing just fine. Roose was young—too young to fully grasp ‘death’’s burden despite knowing what it was. She would outgrow the cult’s indoctrination.

…She wanted to, and did leave a small bunch of flowers on the coffin.

If the afterlife existed, spirit-Emilia would be content.

What did bother them were a few familiar faces in the front row that seemed to glance their way occasionally.. it could just be their imagination. They weren’t sure who; it wasn’t exactly appropriate to stare back for too long while the ceremony was still in progress. 

…

And she was in the ground.

A few people left after the funeral was finished, but most stuck around. That wasn’t saying much, as there weren’t many attendees to begin with. They clustered into groups: cultists, friends, estranged family, etc.. Leo was just taking a moment to think without the stifling atmosphere. Roose meandered around, always staying in a certain radius around them, quietly doing who-knows-what. Kid things. Maybe she was having deep reflections too.

Also, the radius.. may have been half the area allotted for the funeral. It wasn’t much room, but it made it so that the groups didn’t have much space in between them. It only made sense that someone would take notice of a little girl.

It was.. another kid. A few years older than her, lanky, his light brown hair neatly combed to the side. But running around with her had dislodged most of it. Roose eventually took his hand and led him back to Leo.

“Mommy, look! I found a friend. Say hi!”

“..Hello.” He said shyly. They noticed his accent: not heavy, but distinctly German. Hm.

Roose beamed. “His name’s yo.. yo-hun?”

“Johann.” He corrected. “..Voigt.” He added, after a pause. “Um. You are her.. mom?”

They knelt to the kids’ level. Now they could see him more closely, and hell. He did look familiar. He must be one of their brothers’.. which one was it? Anton? Herschel? No, not quite… he didn’t have the same fierce air to him.

“That I am.” They extended a hand. Johann looked confused, but he shook it anyway.

They didn’t have time to say anything else. A man approached, having broken off from one of the groups that were making its way to the exit.

“Johann!” The boy whipped around at the sound of his name being called. “Making friends at your aunt’s funeral, of all places?” He chastised, though it had the air of a quip more than anything. “If only you were this social at school, young man! Shaking a stranger’s hand..” He flashed an awkward, but friendly smile at Leo. Johann slips his hand out of theirs, blushing. Roose takes this opportune moment to grab his hand again and drag him into the not-yet-cleared mass of chairs. “Not, erm, implying that you’re dangerous of course—“

“Mommy’s super dangerous!” Roose exclaimed from behind the seats, not thinking that _perhaps_ that wasn’t a positive thing to say. “She’s a cop!”

“Is sh—ah—are you really?” He stammered, which wasn’t the reaction Leo expected. At all. Then he slips back into his friendly manner again. “Well then. I’ll have you know you’re what little Johann here ambitions to be..” Roose giggles as he blushes harder.

He offers his hand, and they straighten up to shake it. “Herschel Voigt, pleasure to meet you.” Despite the circumstances.

“Leo.” Herschel raised an eyebrow. “…Leo Voigt.”

He blinked. His mouth fell open slightly in a silent ‘oh’, and for a moment, the two forgot to end the handshake. “Ahhh.” He said. Then he chuckled. “The slander-talk of the family for years! In the flesh! I thought you looked familiar.” They expected as much. “Although, I also thought you were some distant cousin at first.”

”We haven’t seen each other since 1992.” Leo said. “I’m not surprised.”

”Yeah?” He prompted. “Thirty or so years tends to change you, I mean. I remember what you looked like, before you cut dresses from your wardrobe.”

…

“And I recall you saying it was a good decision.. because it was easier to climb trees in pants.”

He shrugged. “It’s true! What’s wrong with wanting a friend in my arboreal fortress?”

“Nothing. Apart from me pushing twenty.”

That set him off; he punched them on the shoulder, laughing as loud as socially acceptable in their setting. “Dry as ever, aren’t you? If it wasn’t for your kid there…” It was kind of surprising how easily they slipped into having a real, honest conversation. And the hostility, or at the very least, coldness that they expected wasn’t there; it seemed that Herschel was just too damn nice. Or had something happened between him and their parents?

They glanced to the kids, who were trying—and failing to hide their eavesdropping.

Just before they were going to ask him about his ‘shipping business’, his phone dinged. “Agh, sorry. It’s the husband.” He pulled it out, tutting. “He’s wondering where I ran off to; I was supposed to be back, er, a while ago. Maybe we can continue our chat later?”

And that’s how they ended up exchanging numbers.

“Forget about timezones, alright? Call me whenever you like.” He said, as Johann trotted over to his father’s side and looped an arm around his wrist. “Now, we should really get going..”

“Bye, yo-hun!” Roose called after them.

“It’s yo-HAN!” He shouted back, miffed. Something told them Roose was saying it wrong on purpose. Because of course she would.

==========

[ ringing ]

>Ah, Leo! Looking to chat? Let’s see, where did we leave off?

<Your shipping business.

>Oh, right! I meant to tell you. It’s just deliveries of everyday things: office supplies, home appliances, gold bars, clothing, furniture, hard drugs, firearms—

<Herschel, you do realize I’m obligated to report this?

>Of course I do. But it isn’t the end of the world if you keep this between us. What do you even have to gain?

<…

<…

<The last thirty seconds never happened.

>Hey now. That’s the spirit!

**Author's Note:**

> Still estranged, minus one person.


End file.
